Encore
by inuyasha's lullaby - farewell
Summary: This always happens. Again. – CeruleanLightningShipping.


They argue, again. The same loud voices attempting to overthrow each other like a chaotic putsch. It would have been amusing, if there weren't so much venom laced in their voices. Their argument stems from trivial actions, being another addition to the routine they have adapted to.

The silverette's voice is high-pitched, grating to the ears, overtly emotional.

The bluenette's isn't as mawkish. His is firm and strong, matching the loudness of the silverette's.

Together, their voices create a black hole of anger and annoyance, coupled with the feeling of exhaustion. They scream and yell and roar and shout until they both give up, totally done with each other, the sight of one another hurting their eyes.

All will be well come morning time.

* * *

He cries, again. The tears mar his face, his chocolate brown eyes sparkling with tints and shades of grief and sadness, hurt and anger. The silverette trembles as he wails, shivers as tears spilled from him. The sounds of sumptuous items breaking accompany his cries. There's nothing he can do but let this wave of anger splash past him, cry until he can't cry anymore.

His tears are reduced to sniffles once he hears the slam of the door, indicating that the bluenette has left him alone to his own devices and thoughts, allowing him to wonder what has happened. Wondering was this his fault. Wondering what did he do.

Wondering exactly where he went wrong.

* * *

They kiss, again. Their lips crushed against each other's, fighting for domination, fighting for complete control of this passionate moment. His fingers are intertwined within an untamed jungle of cerulean; his fingers are laced within strands of beauteous and calm silver.

Their bodies clash, warmth radiating from them both as the longing to touch each other, feel each other, increases tenfold. The silverette moans his husband's name, begging him to love him, caress him, throw him to the bed and take him _now_.

The bluenette is lost in a dreamy, lust-filled haze. He focuses upon one piece of clarity: the silverette. He doesn't remember when he and his husband lost their clothes, but it was event that has long passed, and they both proceed to melt into each other.

Their love-making is genuine, tonight.

* * *

He screams, again. Screams at the world that has forsaken him, ignoring the pleas of the silverette standing behind him, begging, _pleading_ for him to calm down.

It's all background noise.

The responsibilities bestowed upon him the moment he turned eighteen overwhelm him yet again. How does he handle _this_? What happened to _that_? _Why the fuck is this happening?_

The frustration boils within him, and the silverette cannot cool him down this time. The bluenette decides to leave, go somewhere, anywhere. A place where he can take his anger out on himself instead of his silverette, who doesn't deserve this pain, the reckless mess that is the bluenette.

The bluenette returns late at night, and completely understands why his husband asks him to sleep on the couch tonight.

After all, the silverette never really liked the smell of alcohol.

* * *

They dance, again. Neither of them have the graceful movement required like the silverette's twin sister, and stepping on toes happens more than occasionally, but they make the best out of it. The bluenette has fun swinging and twirling his precious silverette around, watching the happiness gleam in his brown eyes, savoring the cheerful and feathery laughter.

The silverette allows the bluenette to dip him low, the muscular frame surrounding his slender and slim body. This was romance, the love you see in the movies being played out in reality. This is what they cherish, the moments of excitement in the tumultuous rollercoaster.

This is the moment the silverette didn't want to end as they fast-paced dancing turns into slow, passionate movements.

* * *

He apologies, again. The guilt he feels bubbles within him as he watches the anger in the silverette's pupils, the ire betrayed by the small droplets of water that dripped slowly from the corner of his eyes. The bluenette hates seeing him like this, knowing that it actually wasn't the silverette's fault, but _his_ fault.

He tries to hold the silverette, but is surprised when he is pushed away, swatted away like a repulsive bug.

The apology doesn't seem to work this time, and the silverette screams at him to leave him alone, leave him be, just go away. The bluenette can only stand there, whispering the "I'm sorry, so sorry" that will continue to go unheard, dismissed, forgotten.

* * *

They celebrate, again. The bluenette never ceases to be amazed by the way the silverette's nimble fingers move of the strings of the harp, producing the melodious sounds that relaxes him. He waits until the silverette completes his last note before he presents his anniversary gift. Small giggles accompany the bluenette as he leads the silverette astray, their destination being the bedroom. There is where the silverette bursts into tears, his chocolate eyes falling upon the violin that laid on the bed, the very expensive instrument that he has always desired.

Touching the fine and smooth wood that compromises the violin, the silverette smiled gently, using one hand to wipe away his tears. He looks to the bluenette with hopeful eyes, and grins when receives a nod. He delicately grabbed the bow and played a song he learned long ago, still sounding ever-so-mellifluous. He played to his heart's content while the bluenette listened to this beauty as well.

Ending his song, the silverette placed the violin carefully in its case and directed his gaze onto the bluenette, who had sat down to allow himself to be fully absorbed in the music. Smirking like a little devil, he made his way over to his husband; and climbing onto the bluenette's lap, he whispered lustily in his ear, his soft lips grazing now reddened ears.

"You've done well, darling. Allow me to give you your gift."

The bluenette simply grins.

* * *

He yelps, again. The silverette scowls at the bluenette, who laughed at his expense. The silverette is not a fan of horror movies. The clichéd ones made him feel truly horrible, for they were so predictable, yet he still received goosebumps.

He still scowled as the bluenette wrapped his arms around, mumbling sweet words that provoked an eventual smile from him. The warmth enveloped him nicely, and he nuzzled against the bluenette, giving his gratitude for the comfort.

"No problem. Is there anything you wish to watch?"

The silverette nodded, a sad smile marking his face.

Now they watched a romantic comedy, much to the bluenette's chagrin.

* * *

They hate, again. The malice in their hollow eyes burned each other's souls, and their derisive words were louder the roar of the hateful flames. The breaking point had been reached, and they both boiled over the edge, unable to contain the pain any longer.

The silverette throws a vase, nearly missing the bluenette's face by mere inches. His voice is hoarse from screaming and crying. He feels weak, exhausted, wanting it all to just end, _please_ let it end.

The bluenette roars in anger, grabbing the silverette by the arm of his jacket. He yells profanities, not understanding does it have to come to this, why, why, _why?_

The silverette screams in retaliation, and the bluenette follows, and they rage in that order, a vicious cycle, a destructive whirlwind, a horrible typhoon.

" _This marriage is worthless! You've ruined it all!"_

" _I've ruined it? How thoughtful of you, placing all of the fucking blame on me! It's always ME, and never YOU!"_

" _Because it is always you! We can't ever have anything normal because you want to control everything!"_

" _Control everything? Don't fucking mistake me for you!"_

" _Oh, fuck you! Don't you see that I hate you! I hate you with a passion!"_

The silverette drops to the floor, clutching himself as he trembled and cried loudly. Hurt flashes in the bluenette's eyes. No anger, no contempt. Just pain within those blue orbs.

"Do…do you really mean that?" The feeling became more evident with his voice cracking

"I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it…"

The bluenette kneeled down to hold the silverette, rocking with him, crying with him, repeating the phrase of "It'll be alright." and "We'll be okay.", hoping that either one of those will be suffice reassurance. Small quotes to fix the physical, emotional, and mental damage that is their happily-ever-after.

* * *

They love, again. Their bodies were pressed closely together, their limbs locked with the other's, though they both remained fully clothed. They were done shedding tears – they doubted they could produce anymore. The silverette was broken into the shards; the bluenette scattered into pieces. Only they could pick up the pieces.

Only they could fix each other.

They both spoke carefully to one another, shakily speaking words of truth that reassured themselves (and each other) that what they both felt was real.

"I love you, Ike Winters."

"I love you, too, Reflet Winters."

* * *

 **So, I never really thought about shipping Ike x M!Robin (tentatively dubbed CeruleanLightningShippinf) before, but after reading a story *cough*** _ **Violin**_ ***cough* made by a dear friend and brilliant writer *cough* Paradigm of Writing *cough*wheeze*hack*dies*, I started shipping these two. Couldn't figure out how to write them together, until I came up with this crap.**

 **I didn't want to end on this on a happy note, but halfway through I realized I wouldn't be satisfied with an unhappy ending (which was just leaving it at the "They hate, again" part). So, I had them admit that, despite everything, their true love for each other will keep them strong. Very satisfying, if I do say so myself.**

 **And I may or may not have had made a reference to** _ **Violin**_ **, heh heh =•w•=**


End file.
